When the computer said - no more!

When you get to a certain age you are entirely conscious that everything is not quite what it once was.

This includes your digestive system’s willingness to accept crisps, Kitkats (other chocolate bars are available) or hastily scoffed sausage rolls as a major food group without applying themselves to your thighs, stomach or all of your cheeks.

Despite my increasing years of life, I have not matured on a dietary front quite as much as perhaps I should.

I often watch in admiration those more controlled members of the editorial team who seem to exist purely on grains, fruit and water.

I feel horribly deprived if I have not been recently caffeinated and had a cake.

And in a newsroom there are always, sometimes, inexplicably, cakes.

Unfortunately these things catch up with all of you and despite being blessed for all my life with a relatively slim frame and a previously athletic demeanour there has been no denying the reduction on wearable items in my wardrobe to three elasticated items and my gym routine to practically nil.

I knew all this but until reaching a certain age and being forced to go to a standard medical check, I had not acknowledged the rapid ascension in numbers on the scale. A

fter all, I have been ignoring the rapid addition of numbers to my age so it only seemed fair.

But there was no denying the fact in black and white.

The computer said no - more!

Unfortunately what the computer didn’t take into consideratio was the heavy demands of a serious journalist. (that’s me, honest)

In other words, I had the important task of undertaking a takeaway review in the next 24 hours.